


Marked By Your Words - Literally

by FightMeImSmall



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Finally a fic with more than one chapter, I swear too much, M/M, Soulmarks, Soulmate AU, first ever parse/bitty fic, idk if i even ship them, it just felt right for this fic, soulmate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-02-27 14:04:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18740554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FightMeImSmall/pseuds/FightMeImSmall
Summary: Kent Parson was in the middle of an interview when he got his soulmark. It was just so typically him to get it then, in front of the entire world. Or rather, hockey world. Though it had gone viral, as most public soulmarkings do.-In which soulmarks are the first words your SO says aloud about you.





	1. Thanks babe

Kent Parson was in the middle of an interview when he got his soulmark. It was just so typically him to get it then, in front of the entire world. Or rather, hockey world. Though it had gone viral, as most public soulmarkings do.

            Soulmarks were the first words your soulmate said aloud about you. It meant that, often, it was hard to pinpoint who your soulmate was. Especially if you were someone in the public eye and had yet to find your soulmate. Fortunately, soulmarks could appear anywhere on the body, which meant it was fairly easy to pretend you already the marks. Or to hide them so people couldn’t pretend they’d been the one to say it.

            The downside of them forming anywhere did mean that occasionally they did end up somewhere visible. Swoops had ‘ _Swoops? What a dumb name’_ tattooed across his jawline. Hizzy’s sister had said that to him when Hiz had been traded to aces and he had been telling her about his new teammates. The next day when Swoops came into training with that across his jaw there had been immense chirping until Hizzy had, somewhat shakenly, said that his sister had said that last night. Which of course brought a whole new round of chirps. The two had eventually been introduced and were disgustingly cute together, to Hizzy’s dismay and Kent’s amusement.

            Kent’s appeared across his collar bone during a post-game interview. It had been a tough one, nearing playoffs with tensions high. He had tried to keep positive for his team, to bolster their morale and keep them going but his tank was running out and so was his patience.

            Hizzy had thrown his helmet when they’d gone into the locker room during the break. Swoops had immediately put a hand on Parse’s shoulder and told him he was doing the team talk. It wasn’t him talking control, nor was it him saying he didn’t think Kent could do it. It was Swoops saying he’d do this for his friend.

            The second half of the game hadn’t gone much better. They’d lost, but only just. It still hurt though. In all honesty, everything hurt. Kent had taken a fair amount of hard checks and his body ached from the tension. Even worse, he was on press, he was always on press. He was Kent Parson. He was the face of the Aces.  

            Reporters were had become more and more brazen and brash the closer they got to playoffs. And to the press, Kent was either their favourite fucking player, or a literal Satan spawn. In this instance, it was the latter.

            All the reporters were grating on Parse, shoving their mics in his face and asking the dumbest questions. He knew he was irritable, that it was the game that was making him be more and more annoyed by the reporters, but then this one guy, this one motherfucking guy, would not shut up about the one (1) fuck up Kent had made. And for a professional hockey player, only fucking up once in a game was pretty fucking good.

            “So, Mr Parson, do you reckon you’ve hit your peak already? Ever since your Cup win you’ve been unable to retain that level of playing, as showcased by this game –” the reported cut off as the people around Parse gasped. Kent looked down at the tingling sensation spreading across his chest. Despite it appearing upside down, Kent could still read it fairly quickly

 

_Oh please, Kent Parson played like a motherfucking god and you know it._

 

            Kent smirked and flicked his eyes up to the camera pointed his face and winked, “thanks babe.”


	2. Oh Lord

The boys had all gathered in the living room to watch the Aces game. They hadn’t had the best season after some interesting trades, but they were still hanging in there. This game was by no means a decider game, but the boys were still getting psyched up to watch it.

            Ransom and Holster were already reclining in the god-awful green couch munching on popcorn, matching soulmarks reading _‘That guy is my soulmate’_ once the marks appeared on their calves, they hadn’t even questioned who it could be about. Dex was sat on the floor in front of them between Chowder and Nursey, attempting to focus on his CS work he had open on the coffee table to no avail. Nursery, his unrelenting soulmate, was reading over his shoulder and chirping the hell out of CS, with Chowder indignantly saying how both subjects were pretty cool. Despite their soulbond, Dex and Nursey weren’t dating. Their marks read _I met the most pretentious guy at Samwell today_ and _Samwell may be lgbt but it’s also so white, as showcased by this red-headed heathen on the taddy-tour_. Having those words tattooed on them forever had led to a lot of arguments and a lot of tension. But they were getting there, slowly.

            Shitty was sat next to Ransom and Holster attempting to get the goddamn remote to work without replacing the batteries. If he could push the button hard enough then maybe, just maybe, it would extract more juice from the battery. Lardo had spare batteries in her bag and would hand them over before the game started but for now was enjoying watching her other half struggle. A smile played at her lips as she watched the moustached man hit his head with the remote, the words _‘wow what an idiot’_ scrawled across his forearm, the words she’d whispered to herself after the first time she’d med him. Her own soulmark reading _‘Jackie, I love that tiny woman.’_ Which he’d said right after her interview for manager, cluing her in immediately. It made sense that she’d also have Jack’s name also tattooed on her, seeing as he was Shitty’s platonic soulmate.

            Platonic soulbonds were rare, rarer than romantic ones. And even rarer was someone with both a platonic and romantic soulbond. Shitty would of course be the kind of guy to get both. The second he’d met Jack he’d decided they were best friends and when their words appeared on one another there’d been a fair amount of confusion, thinking it was a romantic bond. Around Shitty’s bicep curled some French words, words Jack had said on the phone to his parents, reading _‘He’s weird but I think you’re going to love him_.’ When Shitty had translated them, he laughed for a solid ten minutes while he tried to figure out who said it. It was only when he’d seen Jack later that day with _‘that boy is either going to be my best friend or suffer the consequences’_ curling in a spiral in his palm, words that he’d muttered to himself in his room the night before whilst creating a friendship plan for the semester, that they realised. There had been an awkward few moments, followed by a pretty well-communicated talk.

            Luckily, they’d been on the same page and had expressed that they didn’t feel any romantic pull toward each other, and after a bit of research, discovered platonic soulmatches. Shitty had been over the moon and Jack, whilst happy he’d found a friend, or rather, the perfect friend and brother, was aware that the likelihood of him ever meeting a romantic match was severely unlikely. Especially once Shitty met Lardo, not that he was jealous. He’d been so happy for Shits. And still was.

            Bitty was baking whilst watching the game, coming in and out of the kitchen once Lardo had surrendered the batteries to Shitty. He liked the idea of Soulmates, but they also terrified him. He’d been relieved that he hadn’t found one in Georgia, relieved and a tiny bit disappointed when it hadn’t been any of him teammates in Samwell. He knew these things couldn’t be planned for but that somehow translated into him thinking it would never happen, and thus made no plans what-so-ever.

            Once the game was over and the Haus was full of hockey bros chatting shit about the game, Bitty went back to baking properly. Popping in and out of the living room, catching snippets of what was happening on screen. He was plating up some cookies when the living room went quiet, too quiet for Bitty’s liking.

            Walking into the living room he noticed Parson being interviewed. He didn’t know what he thought of Kent Parson. Hot, definitely. But he’d overheard some things between him and Jack, things he didn’t know what to think of. Things that weren’t his business. After that kegster Bitty had resolutely not said anything about Kent Parsons, despite the many people talking to him about it. He just made a series of non-committal noises or changed the topic.

            So, when Bitty saw Kent being crucified by some reporters, as he had been for weeks, he got a bit miffed. He knew what it was like to be the small one on the team, he knew what it was like to have no one believe in your ability. And if he could play half as well as Kent freaking Parsons could he’d be over the moon.

            The boys were making similar noises of disapproval at the reporter. Jack, whilst looking slightly uncomfortable, was also rolling his eyes or throwing his hands up whenever someone said something slightly too far out of line.

            _“So, Mr Parson,”_ came the voice of the worst of the reporters, _“do you reckon you’ve hit your peak already? _Ever since your Cup win you’ve been unable to retain that level of playing,_ ” _

            “Oh please! Kent Parson played like a motherfucking god and you know it!” Bitty said angrily.

            The boys grunted in approval at his words. Each throwing out exasperated sighs and movements.

_“As showcased by this game –”_

            Everyone stopped talking, stopped breathing, as words delicately appeared on Kent’s chest. The boys all stared until the words were done, the whole statement transcribed directly onto Kent Parson’s chest. The boys all turned to stare at Bitty, who was just staring at the screen. Staring at his words. Words he’d only just said.

            On screen Kent slowly raised his head to the camera and winked, “Thanks babe.”

            “Oh lord.” Bitty whispered.

            Then the boys all exploded into loud conversation. Chirps, laughter, expletives, the lot. And Bitty, well Bitty wasn’t sure what to do next. 


	3. And Kent? I'm happy for you

Kent had thankfully been able to beg off presser after that. All reporters had been kicked out and the team had all come to take a look at the new tattoo imprinted on Kent’s chest. As the team had continued to get changed Swoops kept complaining about how lucky Kent was. The placement was concealable, and the message was very complimentary.

 

“You get called a god and I get my name trashed. How is this fair?” Swoops groaned.

 

“Bitch, mine says ‘ _god that guy’s haircut is awful.’_ ” Kips says throwing a towel at Swoops.

 

“In all fairness, you used to have a mullet, Kips.” Kent laughed as he wriggled into his jeans, turning to Swoops he spread his arms out. “And Swoops, I get called a god, because I am one.”

 

Swoops flipped him the bird but continued getting changed. Kent smiled to himself as he picked up his shirt, it was a nice thing to have tattooed on his body for the rest of his life. He just hoped whatever he said about his soulmate was just as complimentary. Kip’s and his wife’s words made for a funny story but not the kind of thing Kent wanted between him and his soulmate.

 

It had been at a cafe that Kips had suddenly had the words appear across his forearm. He’d immediately stood up and said ‘ _Hey! Uncalled for!_ ’ Stacy, a waitress, had realised what had happened and yelled back ‘ _but true!”_ Kips had spent his sweet time thinking up an appropriate thing to say about her and after a few weeks of dating he eventually said, ‘ _she’s blonde._ ’ Which infuriated Stacy no end, seeing as she wasn’t even blonde, which Kips said was the point. She did once dye her hair blonde as a joke. That’s how things were between them.

 

“At least yours isn’t visible, Kips, everyone knows that my girlfriend thinks my name is dumb.” Swoops said, now fully dressed.

 

Kent rolled his eyes at his friend, how like Swoops to still be thinking about it minutes later, “Everyone already knew your name was dumb though, Swoops.”

 

“And at least you found out who it was before you got pictured.” Hizzy said and the mood in the locker room immediately sobered. Everyone’s eyes swept to Kent only to quickly look away again. “Ah, sorry, Parse.”

 

Kent plastered on a smile. “No worries man, I know how it is. It’ll be fine.”

 

The next morning Kent was awoken by Swoops dumping Kit on him. It was Jeff’s preferred method of waking Kent up, to drop Kit on him. It did the trick, and Kent couldn’t stay mad for longer than a minute as Kit started rubbing her face on him, purring like a chainsaw.

 

“I’d suggest ignoring your DM’s today man.” Swoops says once Kent’s managed to drag himself to his kitchen. “I hear Phil’s already had to deal with a ton of people trying to contact the organisation to say it was them who said it and they can prove it blah blah blah.”

 

“It’s so dumb to pretend, it will become obvious it wasn’t me once I say something about them won’t it?” Kent complained into the coffee that had been placed in front of him.

 

“People are crazy man. ‘Sides, people who already have marks do that thing where they pretend you’ve met at a fan thing and said that to them.” Swoops shrugged.

 

“Shit man, people really do that?” Kent pulled a face.

 

“People are crazy.” Swoops repeated. “At least you know it’s someone who likes hockey, and your playing. Who knows what would happen to your ego if they didn’t.”

 

Kent flipped him off but considered his words. Was he lucky that this person liked hockey? He’d never been the puck bunny type, not wanting to sleep with someone just because they liked his fame and talent and not him. They were attracted to the media Kent Parsons that he put on. Not that that wasn’t a part of him, just not all of him.

 

Swoops stuck around for most of the day and they watched various dumb shows on Netflix that neither of them really paid attention to. Kent spent most of the time pretending he wasn’t on his phone, not that Swoops bought it.

 

So many of his mentioned were just ‘d y i n g’ over the clip that had been shared everywhere, gif’d, made into memes, and shared just about everywhere. The Ace’s groupchat was constantly pinging away.

He’d watched the clip about a dozen times now, watching the tidy cursive spread across his skin. Watched in happen in slow motion. Watched his face as he noticed it happening. He could see the surprise, the wonder, the affection, the cockiness, spread across his face.

 

“So, you’ve not found her?” Swoops asked eventually.

 

“I – what?” Kent frowned. “You guys told me to avoid social media, I haven’t looked at my DMs.”

 

Jeff gaped at him. “Kent,” he said emphatically, “how do you expect to find her if you don’t, oh I don’t know, look for her?”

 

“But I don’t know who they are.” Kent said, carefully avoiding pronouns. He was into women, occasionally, very rarely, so he didn’t want to completely rule that out.

 

“But they know who you are, obviously, hence why they’d probably contact you via social media or attempt to contact your management team.” Jeff said, subtly picking up on the use of pronoun game, Kent noticed. He was grateful that Swoops didn’t bring it up though.  

 

“I should probably check in with my team huh?”

 

Swoops rolled his eyes ay his friend and was already typing away, Kent assumed on the groupchat, letting their friends know how thick he was. The chirps he was gonna get was already making Kent tired.

 

His phone was in his hand preparing to phone his management when Jack called. It wasn’t something he expected, obviously, and he almost dropped his phone in shock. He had changed his number a few years ago and hadn’t been sure Jack even had it, but had told Bob that if he ever asked, he could have it. Bob was good like that.

 

“Hello?” Kent asked cautiously.

 

“Hey Kenny,” Jack replied, silence stretching out for a few moments.

 

“You called me Zimms.” Kent prompted.

 

“Euh, yeah,” Jack paused again, “I’m not really sure how to say this.”

 

“You saw me get my soulmark?” Kent guessed.

 

“Yeah.” Jack replied, once again letting the silence stretch out. Kent could practically see him floundering.

 

“And what? You don’t think I played like a motherfucking god?” Kent teased.

 

“Ah, no, well not no but, that’s not the point.”  Jack swore softly under his breath. “I know him? He’s one of my teammates. You’ve met him too actually.”

“You… you what?” Kent’s heart dropped, that was not something Kent had been expecting at all. “Who? Wait don’t tell me, unless it’s the tall one with the moustache, I don’t think I could handle that.”

 

“Ah no, no.” Jack breathed a soft laugh. “No, Shitty’s taken. How about you come to Samwell? Or I guess you might not be able to make it out right now, we could come to a game? Though a game setting might not be the best to meet your, ah, intended.”

 

Jack had never been one to ramble, but this was definitely rambling.

 

“How about this,” Kent said, surprising himself with how level his voice was, “I get a couple tickets for my next game and we go get dinner the night before? Or after? Depending on your availability.”

 

“Yeah, sounds good man.” Jack breathed. “And, Kent, I’m happy for you.”


End file.
